


No home.

by Saturnmond



Series: An infinite amount of hope in the universe [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben is haunting Kylo, Blood, Character Study, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Family Issues, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Patricide, Serious Injuries, Snoke had been a creeper from the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12895710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnmond/pseuds/Saturnmond
Summary: Ben is like a shadow, staring at him from a mirror that broke his knuckles countless times. Raging against a galaxy failing to save him from the ghoul who eats children? Now Han Solo is dead, he lost the fight and is surely going to die. Still, Ben is crying and Kylo Ren has some regrets about the man who never was his lover.





	No home.

_„Han Solo can’t save you!“_

The sound of his voice rips through his throat right into the past. Images of small hands clutching at worn leather jackets. Being carried by dad had always been the best, hasn’t it? The falcon smelled like his father’s brand of cigarettes, the engine liked to stutter too. Why would he not carry him home once more, back into a time when his world had been so small that even Han Solo was great enough to fill it? Nausea. Again with the Nausea. His blood was dripping into the snow. He felt his eyes bulging out of their sockets. There was glass in his stomach, acid in his blood. Someone must have carefully bent his every rib to reveal the heart within. If he fainted now, he would surely die. Crumple. He could. Just go and meet him again. Tell him he was sorry. Tell him what his back looked like when he was leaving. Leaving again.

No. 

There was a monster under his bed and it wanted to be his friend. His parents had always heard cries from the cradle. But he was a big boy now so he had to get hurt. No pain, no gain and gain he must to survive. The loneliness. A creature leaning forward to push his head into Ben’s chest. There were toothmarks in his heart, still.  
A hopeful child, an angry youth, a broken man. Would he always stay there waiting for someone to return to him, to come back when even his parents would not? When would his voice give out, screaming into the Leia shaped hole he cut into his life? When would Luke kill the evil man living in his head? There was simply no way. Not for him. Never for him. The master liked to drag him by the spine along the only path there ever was. 

Searing heat and so much power. Enemies, he had to strike down. “Traitor!” he screamed but Ben just stared. Was he not avenging a boy lost waiting for a good night’s kiss? Never go with strangers they said but no one ever told him why. Was he not their creation just as much? Beheaded, cut in half, they should regret making him kneel in front of the monster under the bed. 

Even when he reached out it felt like violence, eyes slicing as if meant to cut out every part rejecting him. Like mother and father hate-loving each other through marriage, he never learned to connect. Kill them all, make them pay, strew their ashes over a galaxy refusing to pull him out of his own skin.

_Snoke at least made it hurt._

Starkiller Base was dying now. The Scavenger gone with his saber, his ship and the last memory he ever would have of his father. As he blinked drearily into the blackened sky he thought of Hux. The boy he had been, the man he never should become. Always the same fate, trapped within a glass house in which they had been forgotten. Timid and afraid, hiding from a light threatening to creep up on shared bruises. Suddenly he wished for the luxury to be honest. They could have been friends. They could have been lovers. They could have whispered half-truths about forgiveness into each other’s wounds when no one was looking. If he was already blown to pieces, he wouldn’t know. Ben was wailing. And he was comfortable here, bleeding out in a bed of missed opportunities. 

_He should not have worn that mask._


End file.
